


7 Days

by nyx (ghostedMinds)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Future, Domestic Fluff, Haikyuu BigBang 2016, M/M, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 06:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7924954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostedMinds/pseuds/nyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matsukawa Issei owns a flower shop and Hanamaki Takahiro owns the tattoo shop attached to it. Seven days in a week and this is the everyday life of two boyfriends just getting by with guest starring roles filled by flirty customers, caring and meddling old women, and random visits from former high school classmates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	7 Days

**Author's Note:**

> Done for HQBB2016!! This was tons of fun writing and I hope you enjoy!!  
> Beta'd by [taichikawanishi](http://taichikawanishi.tumblr.com).  
> Check out the wonderful accompanying [art](http://scarfboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/149497151649) made by [scarfboyfriends](http://scarfboyfriends.tumblr.com/).

** Sunday **

Soft light enters through the window, sun sitting low on the horizon as it begins its ascent. The light landing on the bed, casting shadows as the two occupants remain asleep, unaware of the world waking up just outside their small bubble of home.

 

The first to stir is Hanamaki. Eyes open just a little, for a brief second, before they’re clenching shut, a whimper in his throat. After a minute he tries again, letting his eyes flutter open and blinking rapidly when the light is no longer blinding. He moves to stretch his arm, a weight on one of them stopping him. Looking down reveals a head of black curls resting on his arm, which would actually explain the lack of feeling in Hanamaki’s hand. For a second he considers pushing the head off or waking the other man up, but quickly turns down those thoughts; it’s not often that he gets to see Matsukawa asleep looking so at peace, eyebrows relaxed and mouth hanging open just slightly, puffs of air carrying across Hanamaki’s arm. Hanamaki turns more onto his side, eyes gliding over Matsukawa, drinking him in before returning to rest on his face. With slow movements, Hanamaki’s hand caresses Matsukawa’s cheeks, lightly brushing some of the hair away from his face, skimming over chapped lips. Hanamaki thumbs at the crease, tongue wetting his own lips, head bowing to lean in closer, but his mission is cut short when the object of his attention wakens, pulling Hanamaki’s thumb into his mouth and nipping the tip.

 

“Hiro,” comes the raspy voice, sleep-thick.

 

“Good Mornin’ Mattsun,” Hanamaki says back, with a slight pout, pulling his thumb away to rest his hand on Matsukawa’s cheek, finishing his journey to kiss Matsukawa who hums in response. They lay together, trading chaste kisses, not quite ready to face the day. Despite wishes to stay in bed, the bathroom calls.

 

“Alright Hiro, it’s time to get up,” Matsukawa says, drawing away from his boyfriend.

 

“No,” Hanamaki says childishly, turning his head into the pillow. “Let’s spend the day in bed. All day.” Resting on his elbows, Matsukawa thinks the suggestion over.

 

“Okay.” Hanamaki peeks out from the pillow when he feels the bed move and Matsukawa’s warmth draw away.

 

“Where are you going? What about bed?”

 

“I need to pee Hiro. I’m not about to pee in bed.”

 

“Pee later!”

 

“Get up and use the bathroom too. I’ll go get some food.”

 

“Mattsun, don’t leave,” Hanamaki whines, clutching one of Matsukawa’s arms to his chest. Matsukawa in turn chuckles as he throws his legs over the side of the bed, removing his arm from Hanamaki’s grip and leaning over the other.

 

“Hiro, how much attention do you need?”

 

“All of it,” Hanamaki says, voice light as he winds his arms around Matsukawa’s neck, pulling him down until their faces are inches apart. “All of it,” he repeats.

 

Matsukawa snickers but closes the gap, catching Hanamaki’s lips with his own, starting out slow and languid but soon pressing down harder, more insistent. He draws back, takes a breath and goes again, biting Hanamaki’s bottom lip before soothing his tongue over it, humming when Hanamaki opens his mouth for him. Hanamaki moans, smothered by the kiss, and his hands clutch desperately to the back of Matsukawa’s shirt, pulling him closer. Eventually the need for air outweighs the desire to kiss and they pull apart, panting softly against each other’s lips.

 

“Come back to bed?” Hanamaki asks, looking up through his lashes while biting his bottom lip. Matsukawa smiles softly down at him, pecking his lips quickly before he pulls away and gets off the bed.

 

“Nope. Sorry Hiro,” he says with mirth.

 

“Mattsun,” Hanamaki whines, turning to half hang off the bed, legs tangled in sheets, watching as Matsukawa walks through the door with a wave. “Mattsun!” He hears Matsukawa’s laughter travel through the apartment, sticking his tongue out at the empty doorway and waits for his boyfriend’s eventual return.

 

He realizes soon that Matsukawa had been right and he needs to pee too, so with a long sigh he climbs off the bed and goes straight for the bathroom. After washing his hands and teeth, he returns to bed, kicking the sheets to the bottom of the bed.

 

Ten minutes later, Matsukawa returns loaded down with a plate of toast and jam, two mugs in his other hand, a laptop under an arm, a book and sketchbook under his other arm and a pencil and pen gripped between his teeth. Hanamaki climbs off the bed for a second time and takes the things from under Matsukawa’s arms and lightly throws them on the bed, next taking the mugs out of Matsukawa’s hand. Matsukawa leans down and pecks Hanamaki on the lips, unmindful of the writing utensils still in his mouth.

 

“Mattsun,” Hanamaki laughs, unable to slap Matsukawa due to the mugs. Matsukawa walks to the bed with a self-satisfied smirk, taking the pencil and pen out of his mouth.

 

“Thank you Hiro. You coming?”

 

Hanamaki grumbles as he sets the mugs down on the nightstand and climbs into bed after Matsukawa, getting comfortable next to him and pulling the mugs off the night stand. He hands Matsukawa the pink one, and tentatively takes a sip of his coffee, humming when it touches his tongue. A responding hum comes from Matsukawa who takes a sip of his coffee as well. Slowly they begin to eat the toast, comfortable silence between them as they bask in the early morning sun, enjoying their food and coffee. When toast and coffee are gone, Matsukawa takes the dishes and piles them on the night stand, Hanamaki falling back on the bed with his head at the foot.

 

“Imma nap,” Hanamaki declares, turning on his side and curling into a loose ball.

 

“You just woke up,” Matsukawa scoffs, laying down next to Hanamaki anyway and opening the book he brought with him.

 

“Mhmm.” Hanamaki cuddles up along Matsukawa’s side, ignoring the heat that’s already starting to settle into the apartment without the a/c to battle it.

 

“I’ll wake you up in a couple hours. You work tomorrow.”

 

Matsukawa drapes an arm around Hanamaki and begins to read, the soft breaths of Hanamaki a light tune he strains to make out. After half an hour of reading, the soft puffs of his boyfriend and the heat finally get to him, he slowly falls asleep, book resting on his chest and eyes battling the pull.

 

A couple of hours later, Hanamaki is the first to wake again. He spends a few minutes admiring Matsukawa, a soft grin on his face when he sees the still open book resting on his chest, obvious that he hadn’t planned on taking a nap. Quickly and lightly, Hanamaki places a kiss on Matsukawa’s forehead.

 

Reaching over Matsukawa, Hanamaki snatches his sketchbook and then reaches down by his legs to grab the pen and pencil Matsukawa had brought in. Turning in his boyfriend’s arms, Hanamaki lays on his stomach, opens his sketchbook and begins to doodle, slowly finding inspiration and beginning to sketch out a possible design for a tattoo.

 

That is how Matsukawa wakes up an hour later, to the sound of pen on paper and his boyfriend a comfortable presence under his arm. He lays still for a few minutes before stretching and hooking his chin over Hanamaki’s shoulder, watching as the young tattoo artists draws.

 

“Good morning sleeping budding,” Hanamaki says, pausing to turn his head and kiss Matsukawa on the cheek.

 

“Morning. What’s that?”

 

“An idea I’m toying with.” Matsukawa hums, wiggling around so he’s half on top of Hanamaki while continuing to watch as his boyfriend works. Eventually Matsukawa has to get up to visit the restroom, returning to his book when he crawls back into bed.

 

Somewhere around lunch time Hanamaki leaves the bed’s sweet clutch for a bathroom break and to make some sandwiches, grab a couple bottles of water, and then wander back into the bedroom. The couple eats while exchanging light banter, their work schedule for the week, jokes, anything that pops unto their minds.

 

When both plates are polished clean, Matsukawa gets off the bed and returns the breakfast and lunch dishes to the kitchen, rinsing them off and then simply leaving them in the sink to wash later. He wanders back into the bedroom, falling onto the bed earning a protested yell from Hanamaki. Matsukawa laughs through it all, trapping Hanamaki’s ankle in his hand to keep from getting kicked in the face.

 

“Mattsun! Let go.”

 

“Nah,” Matsukawa says casually, nipping at the inside of Hanamaki’s ankle, forcing a giggle from the other man. A hand flies to Hanamaki’s mouth, glaring daggers down at Matsukawa who grins back mischievously.

 

“Mattsun. Don’t. You. Dare.”

 

The grin only grows bigger, Matsukawa pushes off the bed, fingers pushing Hanamaki’s shirt up to attack his sides, digging into the muscle there with just the right amount of pressure, delighted in the giggles that Hanamaki is unable to hold back, tears forming in his eyes and half formed pleas falling from his mouth.

 

After a few minutes, Matsukawa has mercy and falls off of Hanamaki, his own laughter filling the room as Hanamaki gasps for breath. Once Matsukawa’s laughs die down, the two are left panting for air, room starting to get to stifling.

 

“I hate you,” Hanamaki accuses.

 

“Nah.” Matsukawa turns onto his side, leaning over Hanamaki to place a kiss on his lips, using the hand that isn’t supporting him to wipe the tears off of Hanamaki’s cheeks. “You love me more than profiteroles.”

 

“That’s debatable.”

 

“Sure it is,” Matsukawa says with sarcasm, moving to slither out of bed, “I’ll go get the fan.”

 

“Thank you Flower Charming,” Hanamaki sing-songs, watching as Matsukawa stands and glares at him, heading for the hall closet to get out the small electric fan. With practiced moves, Matsukawa plugs the fan in, setting it in just the right spot – moving it back and forth until it’s placed correctly. Both men sigh when it’s turned on, rotating to help regulate the air and keep both of them cool.

 

“You’re just inkling for another tickle attack aren’t you?” Matsukawa asks, falling into bed again after stripping his shirt. Hanamaki grunts, sitting up himself so that he too can take his shirt off and throw it on the floor, uncaring of the messy act.

 

They fall into silence again, one drawing and the other reading. They stay like that for the rest of the day, taking the occasional break to go to the bathroom or to grab more water or a snack.

 

When dinnertime rolls around, Matsukawa goes to the kitchen to prepare omelets, rejecting Hanamaki’s pleas to help. He carries the food back to the room, resigned to the fact that he’ll need to feed Hanamaki who lays starfished on the bed, refusing to get up, even for food. Matsukawa takes it in stride, content to feed the older man in between his own bites.

 

Matsukawa delivers the plates back to the kitchen while Hanamaki heads to the bathroom to begin running the bath.  Matsukawa quickly joins him and the two wash up, pleased to be able to take their time and enjoy the hot water. Washed up and clean, the couple dries each other off, pulling on boxers and falling into bed again, fan whirling quietly in the room.

 

Deciding to forgo their earlier daytime activities, they settle against the headboard of the bed, Matsukawa pulling up something to watch. As they relax into the bed, ready to finish the lazy day by watching some entertainment, Hanamaki speaks.

 

“This wasn’t a bad way to spend Sunday. We should do it again.”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

 

** Monday ** 

Matsukawa hums the tune to a song he doesn't really know, breathing words every few notes when they come to him. His attention stays focused on the shears in his hands and the flowers whose stems he delicately cuts, preparing bouquets to display in the store, if not to sell then at least to help tempt anyone who wanders in to buy a bouquet of their own choosing.

 

The tune stays on his tongue as Hanamaki wanders in, rubbing at his eyes and swaying slightly. Matsukawa vacates his seat behind the counter, allowing Hanamaki to stumble onto the stool, slumping over the counter to rest his head on arms.

 

"How was the appointment?" Matsukawa asks. Hanamaki hums, burrowing his head into his arms. A few minutes later he finally answers, voice muffled.

 

"It was good. Got the tattoo done and the client was satisfied. A lot of detail though. My eyes hurt." Matsukawa chuckles, patting Hanamaki's head once before he turns his attention back to the flowers he's currently arranging.

 

"Did you close up?"

 

"Yeah." There's a nod from Matsukawa, the floor shop descending into silence, both men comfortable enough to have no desire of breaking it. Sadly, the choice is not up to them and not even five minutes later the door to the shop is thrown open, bells ringing loudly, cheerful voice penetrating the silence.

 

"Makki-chan? Mattsun?"

 

“Go away,” Hanamaki whines.

 

“Makki-chan! Mattsun!” Oikawa shouts, rounding the counter and pulling both men into a hug. “You both look so good. How’ve you been? How are your shops? Let me decorate? We haven’t seen each other in ages,” he pouts.

 

“Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki says, returning Oikawa’s hug despite his words, “Come get your lost setter.”

 

“Tooru, stop being so loud,” Iwaizumi scolds with a fond look.

 

“Iwa-chan! Rude.”

 

Laughs ring out as Matsukawa hugs Oikawa back. “It’s good to see you again Oikawa, Iwaizumi.”

 

“Of course it is.”

 

“It’s nice to see you guys, too,” Iwaizumi says, speaking over Oikawa.

 

“Makki-chan,” Oikawa starts, glaring at Iwaizumi who stands on the other side of the counter, “Show me your shop. I can give you ideas on how to decorate.”

 

“I’m not taking your interior design advice,” Hanamaki says, shutting down the idea immediately.

 

“Don’t be mean Makki-chan. I’m providing my services for free. You should be grateful,” Oikawa admonishes, untangling himself and pushing Hanamaki toward the door separating the flower and tattoo shop, Hanamaki complaining all the while. Iwaizumi and Matsukawa watch them go, fond yet exasperated smiles on both of their faces.

 

“Talking about services, you should let me take some pictures,” Iwaizumi mentions, looking over at Matsukawa. He grimaces.

 

“No thank you.” Iwaizumi doesn’t back down, resting his forearms on the counter, expression intense.

 

“It’ll be good for your store Mattsun, might even bring in some customers for Makki. Your store has its own beauty that most flower shops don’t have, like a garden located inside. Let me take some pictures.”

 

“No.”

 

The two glare at each other, unwilling to back down. Oikawa coming crashing into the room with Hanamaki behind him breaks the stare off, both choosing to look at their partners instead.

 

“Mattsun! Make him leave. He wants to add curtains and blacklights. Blacklights Mattsun!”

 

“Rude. I’m helping. It’ll be the best decorated tattoo shop ever.”

 

“It’s fine. I like it. Mattsun!”

 

“How about lunch?” Matsukawa asks.

 

“No way! We haven’t even talked about your shop Mattsun,” Oikawa exclaims, shaking his head furiously.

 

“Shittykawa, don’t be unreasonable. We’re already intruding. Lunch sounds good Mattsun,” Iwaizumi says intervening. Matsukawa looks Iwaizumi over dubiously.

 

“Great,” Hanamaki says, gently pushing Oikawa and Iwaizumi toward the door. “We’ll meet you two at the izakaya a couple blocks over at 1.”

 

“Okay. Mattsun, I’m getting those pictures later,” Iwaizumi calls back as he and Oikawa exit the store, small bell announcing their departure. Matsukawa frowns at the door, turning it to Hanamaki when he beams at Matsukawa, unapologetic look on his face.

 

“Better you than me, Mattsun. Love you.” Hanamaki places a quick kiss on Matsukawa’s lips as he makes his way back to his tattoo shop, more energized than he’d been before.

 

“The things I go through,” Matsukawa mutters, getting back to the incomplete bouquet left abandoned on the counter.

 

Three hours later, Matsukawa wanders into the tattoo shop, closing his store before Hanamaki for once. Sitting on the stool behind the counter, Hanamaki is writing in a planner, marking down a new appointment as he sets the phone down on the counter.

 

“Ready to go?” Matsukawa asks, leaning against the counter and looking at Hanamaki. He gets a hum in response as Hanamaki finishes writing. When Hanamaki is done, he places the pen down and tilts his head back, kissing Matsukawa, letting his lips rest against Matsukawa’s before finally pulling back.

 

“I’m ready.”

  
Hanamaki slips off the stool and walks around the counter, letting Matsukawa pull him into another kiss. When they pull apart, they leave the tattoo shop, Hanamaki remembering to flip the sign to closed and locking the door. They walk the few blocks to the izakaya they’d agreed to meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa at. To neither of their surprise, the other couple is waiting for both of them in front of the restaurant.

 

“You’re late,” Oikawa huffs.

 

“You’ve never been late?” Hanamaki asks with a grin.

 

“Being late for practice doesn’t count.”

 

“It’s worse,” Iwaizumi says casually, a small smile on his lips.

 

“You’re not supposed to double-team me Iwa-chan.”

 

“It’s not double-teaming if there are three people,” Matsukawa points out.

 

“Mattsun!” Oikawa whines, following Hanamaki in as he leads them in.

 

“There, there,” Iwaizumi says, patting Oikawa on the back who only glares at Iwaizumi and sticks his tongue out earning him an eye roll and two chuckles.

 

The group find a seat in the back and while Hanamaki and Matsukawa slide into one side, Oikawa and Iwaizumi sit across from them. Iwaizumi makes sure to place his camera on the table by the wall so that he can look at it at any point. They don’t bother with conversation, choosing to look at their menus instead.

 

When a man comes to their table to get their orders, not only are drinks ordered but their meals are as well. They don’t have to wait long before their drinks are brought out to them, quickly falling into conversation as if they’d never stopped talking to begin with.

 

“How have you two been?” Matsukawa asks once all four friends have their drinks.

 

“Great! My business is really picking up. I’ve gained double the number of clients in the last couple months,” Oikawa gushes, smile on his face. “The clients are usually couples but I get other people too and they’ve all got different tastes. It’s…interesting coming up with the right décor for each client.”

 

“He’s not overworking is he Iwaizumi?” Hanamaki asks seriously, noticing the same glint in Oikawa’s eyes that he use to get when they had a match against someone. Oikawa huffs, looking outraged between the three but they can tell he’s only playing at being offended.

 

“I’ll have you know I have a regular sleeping routine. If anyone’s overworking, it’s Iwa-chan. You should be accusing him.”

 

“Say that to two nights ago when you were hunched over working on finding the right furniture for a new client,” Iwaizumi says, ratting on Oikawa without a second thought.

 

“Iwa-chan! Rude. How about when you got up before the sun and stayed out till midnight yesterday for some pictures?” Oikawa argues back. Before the couple can get any further into their squabble, Matsukawa and Hanamaki start laughing.

 

“I’ve missed you two,” Hanamaki says between laughs.

 

“Miss the teasing and bickering too,” Matsukawa adds honestly.

 

“We don’t bicker,” Oikawa and Iwaizumi disagree instantly with a frown, before it breaks into a smile, beginning to laugh as well.

 

“Fine. So how have you two love birds been doing?” Oikawa asks scandalized, leaning over the table and swiveling his head to look at them both.

 

“If this is about our relationship, I decline to answer until I get the details on you and Iwaizumi. But my tattoo shop is doing fine thank you. Had some repeat customers and everyone seems satisfied with my work. Mattsun even got some new ink recently.” Matsukawa gives Hanamaki a pained look as both Oikawa and Iwaizumi light up, looking over at him instantly.

 

“Let us see Mattsun! Come on.”

 

“Inside voice,” Iwaizumi distantly reminds, looking Matsukawa over, “Show us Mattsun. Don’t leave us in suspense.”

 

Matsukawa sighs but does as he’s told, pulling the sleeve of his shirt up past the pine needles on his right forearm and up until it rests in the middle of his upper. He turns the inside of his arm out and shows off the tattoo of the Aquarius constellation. Oikawa’s gasp is clear to make out when he recognizes.

  
“Mattsun,” Oikawa says wide-eyed and with a ghost of a smile, “That’s so romantic. Makki-chan, you’re so lucky. Iwa-chan hasn’t done something like that for me.”

 

“Done what? Wait, what?” Hanamaki asks confused, looking down at the tattoo and then up at Oikawa in confusion, turning to Iwaizumi for an answer. Iwaizumi shrugs, as lost as Hanamaki is.

 

“You don’t know?” Oikawa asks in disbelief, before it turns slightly accusatory. “You tattooed him.”

 

“Yes. I don’t know what it is though. Mattsun wouldn’t tell me.”

 

“Oikawa,” Matsukawa warns, only strengthening Hanamaki’s desire to know the secret behind the tattoo. He glares at Oikawa in warning.

 

“Oikawa.”

 

Oikawa sits in his seat, glancing between the two and suddenly wishing he hadn’t know anything, but he’s never been one to keep secrets between his friends, not if he thinks it’ll make one or both of them happy.

 

“It’s the constellation Aquarius. Your star sign Makki-chan.” The table falls into silence, Iwaizumi being the first to break.

 

“Hey. I might not have your star sign tattooed on my body but I’ve done plenty of romantic things. Should I get your star sign tattooed on me?”

 

“Matsukawa Issei,” Hanamaki says lowly, head turned to stare at Matsukawa who uncertainly meets his eyes, “You are a secret romantic and anyone who says you aren’t romantic has to answer to me.” Silence falls again for a moment before Oikawa burst out laughing, covering his mouth to stop himself from being too loud when a few people look at them.

 

“Really Hiro?”

 

“Secret romantic,” Hanamaki sing-songs with a grin, his hand holding Matsukawa’s tightly under the table. “Iwaizumi, if you want another tattoo let me know. You can’t go to anyone else, it would be cheating.”

 

“Don’t worry Makki-chan. You’re the only tattoo artist for us,” Oikawa says firmly, finally reigning in his laughter but eyes alight.

 

“And how have you been Mattsun?” Iwaizumi asks, deciding to ignore the silliness that is his boyfriend. Matsukawa follows along, used to the antics that are purely Hanamaki Takahiro.

 

“Good. Business is good. Like Hiro I’ve got a lot of return customers and regulars. Not to mention the people who are passing through or happen to stumble in. I’ve got good deals on the flowers I get too, not to mention the healthy ones I’ve been growing.”

 

“It’s so weird to hear you talking about flowers,” Oikawa confesses, looking Matsukawa over analytically before switching his gaze to Hanamaki to do the same, neither man bothered by it.

 

“And it’s still weird to hear you talk about interior design despite your terrible fashion sense and to know that Iwaizumi is a semi-well known photographer,” Hanamaki adds.

 

“And that you own a tattoo shop that is very undervalued,” Oikawa adds on, ignoring the tease about his fashion sense.

 

“Tooru’s right. You two should let me take some pictures. You two are underappreciated and deserve more business.”

 

“You’ve known us since high school, we were on the same team, you have to say that,” Matsukawa says, brushing the suggestion and compliment off. Oikawa glares at Matsukawa.

 

“If that’s true, when have we ever sugar coated things with you two. You’re a good florist with a beautiful shop and Makki-chan is a great tattoo artist. The both of you should be getting more attention. Iwaizumi can help with that; he is a semi-well known photographer after all. I let him help promote my business.”

 

“You’re dating him. It’s kind of a must,” Hanamaki points.

 

“No matter. Please?” Oikawa asks with a pout.

 

“It’ll be good for business,” Iwaizumi adds, patting his camera tenderly.

 

“It’s not like we’re too concerned about the success of our shops, we get by just fine,” Matsukawa says.

 

“We know,” Oikawa concedes with a nod, “But you’re our best friends, we want to help you both and to brag about how amazing our friends are.”

 

“And it wouldn’t be bad for me either,” Iwaizumi adds, changing tactics slightly.

 

“I know what you’re doing,” Hanamaki says instantly, glaring at Iwaizumi, “And it’s going to work. Fine. You can take pictures of my store but you have to come back in a month.”

 

“Deal,” Oikawa says without waiting for Iwaizumi’s response, not that it would help much with him locked in a glaring match with Matsukawa.

 

“Come on Mattsun, it’s not like it’ll change anything really. Who’s going to take a train to get flowers?” Hanamaki asks, nudging Matsukawa with his shoulder.

 

“Don’t jinx it, Hiro. Fine, but you can come back in a month for the pictures.”

 

“Perfect,” Iwaizumi says, smile on his face and eyes dancing.

 

“You two are too easy,” Oikawa says with his own grin.

 

“Sometimes,” Hanamaki admits easily, “But so are you two.”

 

Oikawa laughs at that. “Very true. Food!” His gaze snaps to the man coming over with a tray of food on it. Silence comes to a standstill as the man approaches and paces out the dishes, wishing them a good meal. After a quick murmur of “itadakimasu” the four dig in, conversation all but stopping as they enjoy their meal.

 

With the food finished, the check is paid for and the group of high school friends leave, gathering outside to say their goodbyes. Promises of reuniting in a month are made for pictures and to spend actual time catching up before Iwaizumi and Oikawa walk away to head back to the station to return home. Matsukawa and Hanamaki do the same to reopen their stores and finish their day, in good spirits from having seen their friends again after a year apart.

 

** Tuesday **

Matsukawa hums a soft tune under his breath, something from the comedy show Hanamaki watches every Monday night. A ding rings through the shop from the bell Hanamaki had insisted Matsukawa get to hang on the door so he’d know when someone walked in.

 

“Welcome to Flowers&Ink. What can I do for you? Flowers or Ink?”

 

“I’m just browsing. Your flower shop is very lovely,” Matsukawa hears a woman say, voice too loud for his liking.

 

“My...my flower…what?” Hanamaki stutters, but Matsukawa can hear an underlying layer of mirth in his tone.

 

“Hiro?” Matsukawa asks stepping out from the flower shop’s backroom.

 

“Mattsun,” Hanamaki says, turning to Matsukawa and letting a smirk emerge.

 

“H-hello. Is your shop open? I was interested in getting a tattoo,” the woman says, a small blush on her cheeks as she looks up at Matsukawa.

 

“My shop?” Matsukawa asks.

 

“Yes,” the woman confirms, shy smile on her lips.

 

“That tattoo shop?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’ll have to talk–” Matsukawa begins but is interrupted by another woman who enters the store, eyes roaming the shop before they land on the trio gathered in the middle of the store.

 

“Are you here for Flowers or Ink?” Hanamaki asks, leaning around the first woman.

 

After a second the new woman speaks, eyes intent on Matsukawa. “I’d like a tattoo please. It’ll be my first.”

 

“Unfortunately I’ve already arranged to get one,” the first woman butts in, glaring at the newcomer.

 

Matsukawa glares at Hanamaki who’s trying to hide a laugh behind his hand, opening his mouth to correct the two woman about who really owns the tattoo shop. Before he can say anything though, the door opens again and another woman enters, one that both Matsukawa and Hanamaki recognize as the lady who’s been making passes at Matsukawa every time they go grocery shopping. Things instantly become less amusing for Hanamaki.

 

“Good morning. I’d like to get a tattoo,” the third woman says, strutting up to the group and staring right at Matsukawa.

 

“As I was saying, you’ll have to speak to Hiro if you want a tattoo. I own this flower shop,” Matsukawa finally corrects, hand motioning to Hanamaki who has his phone out. Realizing the attention is on him, he pockets it quickly and smiles at the ladies and his boyfriend, hand raised in a wave.

 

“I handle the ink –” Hanamaki begins but is cut off by the third woman who turns her head to address Matsukawa again, eyes batting.

 

“I changed my mind. I’d like to buy three dozen flowers please.” The other two women glare as she stands close to Matsukawa, hand placed on his arm.

 

“So would I,” the other two women chorus together.

 

“What about your tattoos?” Hanamaki asks a little irritated now.

 

“That’s okay. Tattoos are a little tacky,” the second woman says with false cheer.

 

“They’re not that tacky,” Hanamaki mutters.

 

“Hiro’s right. He’s a wonderful artist, done all of mine and there’s no one I trust more than him.” Hanamaki wills down his blush, flattered yet embarrassed by Matsukawa’s compliments.

 

“Maybe another time then. How about those flowers?” the first woman says brushing off the whole exchange of words. Hanamaki opens his mouth to say something when he’s interrupted, beginning to hate the bell on the door.

 

“Mattsun!” a girl wearing a high school uniform yells, running into the flower shop with a shrill ring. "I-I need help. I promised a friend to give her flowers to trick another friend that she was given flowers even though she wasn't because they're having a feud about who's prettier and they think that whoever gets the most flowers is prettier. But who gives a girl flowers to say she's prettier which isn't to mention that we have exams to study for? Who has time to worry about flowers and who's prettier with entrance exams around the corner?" The five adults watch the girl pant, surprised by her one breath rant.

 

 "Impressive. I think you've got Tooru beat," Hanamaki says breaking the silence, clapping his hands. Matsukawa gives a low whistle.

 

 "Sorry, you'll have to wait a moment," the third woman says, her friends nodding.

 

 "Mattsun," the high schooler pleads, flinging herself at Matsukawa and clinging to his arm. "I'll be late for school if you don't help me now. I can't let her down."

 

 "Alright Rei, what are you looking for?" Matsukawa says with a sigh and an eye roll, lips curved in a smile.

 

 "Something that says 'you're pretty.'"

 

“Very specific.”

 

Matsukawa and Rei walk away to go look at flowers and Hanamaki asks innocently with a smile that’s a little too sharp and pleased, "Can I help you with anything else?" The women turn their glares into a pout as they look over to Hanamaki.

 

 "Thank you but we should be going. Prior engagements."

 

The women leave, one last glance thrown at Matsukawa who’s talking with Rei who’s wavering her arms around as she speaks. Humming in delight, Hanamaki turns back to the flowers he was putting in a vase, eyes trained on his boyfriend and Rei as they walk around the shop. He can’t help the fond smile that appears as he watches the two. After a few minutes, Matsukawa leads Rei to the counter and rings her up, handing over her bouquet mixed with hibiscus and orchids. On the way out she links arms with Hanamaki and has him escort her out. His eyes catch the raised eyebrow Matsukawa sends him.

 

“What can I do for you, Miss Rei?”

 

“You’re welcome. You owe me by the way. I have nothing to do with these now.”

 

“Thank you Rei. I’ll take these off your hands,” Hanamaki says, taking the flowers out of Rei’s hands – she relinquishes the flowers willingly.

 

“Thanks. I’ll see you later. I really am going to be late,” she sing-songs, throwing a wink and thumbs-up over her shoulder. Hanamaki shakes his head, watching as the girl runs off. He looks down at the flowers in his hand, idea forming in his mind.

 

 

** Wednesday **

It isn’t too long before midday and Hanamaki is sitting at the counter at the front of the flower shop, fingers idling playing with some Ipomoea. He’d closed his store early, costumerless and bored. When he’d sought entertainment from Matsukawa, the florist was busy organizing some flowers in the back.

 

Hanamaki sighs, slumping over the counter and stares out the window, brainstorming ways to find some entertainment, or maybe surprise Matsukawa and thank him for being such an amazing boyfriend. He groaned at the sappy thoughts he was having, it was more of an Oikawa move anyway, being all sappy.

 

Out of nowhere, Hanamaki springs up, leaning on the counter and trying to focus better on what he _thought_ he saw on the horizon. It was probably – nope. Hanamaki recoils, Ipomoea in hand, and walks toward the back of the store. Poking his head in the back room, Hanamaki’s eyes land on Matsukawa and he smiles fondly, before remembering why he’s there.

 

“Hey Mattsun! I just remembered some things I need to look over and stuff. I’ll see you in a bit.”

 

Not waiting for a reply, Hanamaki pulls his head back and quickly makes his way into his tattoo shop, closing the curtain that separates the two spaces. For a second, Hanamaki stands rooted in his spot fidgeting with the flower in his hand, then turns back to the curtain whispering under his breath, “Sorry Mattsun.”

 

Back in the back room, Matsukawa looked at the door in confusion.  Hanamaki usually migrated between the shops whenever he felt like it throughout the day. Matsukawa can’t blame him either, not when Hanamaki didn’t require his two employees to come in everyday – making sure that they were working on busy days or if there were appointments – and unlike the flower shop, Hanamaki’s tattoo shop didn’t get as many customers.

 

The reason Matsukawa doesn’t worry about Hanamaki’s lack of customers is because their town isn’t overflowing with people, and because both stores make roughly the same profit. So, Matsukawa reasons he can’t be blamed for being confused at Hanamaki’s declaration about where he’s going to be.

 

When the door chimes, Matsukawa shakes his head and leaves the back room. He has a business to run, not overthinking the actions of his boyfriend. However, once he’s in the actual store of his shop, he understands Hanamaki’s actions and curses his boyfriend, wishing he himself could hideaway in the tattoo parlor.

 

“Good morning,” he says anyway because he was raised with manners and he can’t very well run away from his own shop, though he desperately contemplates it for a second.

 

“Oh. Good morning,” a young woman responds, turning on her heel and a hand over her chest, eyes widened and if Matsukawa wasn’t madly in love with Hanamaki (despite questioning himself on the matter multiple times) he’d be highly inclined to ask the young woman out. “Do you know where the owner of this store is?” she asks innocently. Part of Matsukawa wants to groan and the other part wants to smirk, he can practically hear Hanamaki’s snicker in the back of his head.

 

“Matsukawa Issei. How are you?” an elderly woman asks, coming up beside the younger woman.

 

Old ladies. The bane of his existence.

 

“Fine Tatsuki-san.” The old woman looks him over and then smiles mischievously.  He groans inside.

 

“And Makki? I didn’t see him and the sign says his store is closed.”

 

“Yeah. There’s some paperwork he has to go over. Are you looking for any flower in particular this week?” Matsukawa has no problem covering for Hanamaki who had obviously known who was coming, but Matsukawa swears that Hanamaki will make it up to him later.

 

“Are you two are doing alright then? Nothing special happening? I heard that you were hanging out with two other young men a couple of days ago. What was that about?”

 

“Grandmother!” the young woman squeaks, facing turning red as she follows after the old woman who has begun to walk around the store, examining the flowers. Matsukawa walks behind the woman, allowing the old lady to figure out what she’s looking for. The young woman addresses him next, “I’m so sorry. My grandmother–”

 

“It’s okay,” Matsukawa says with a small chuckle, waving the matter off. “It happens weekly,” he turns to answer the elderly, “They were our teammates from high school who decided to pay us a visit. It was good to see them. We’ve had a pretty calm week so far. How have you been Tatsuki-san?” The old woman turned back to look at Matsukawa and after a second smiled and gave him a wink.

 

“Mattsun,” a voice calls out as the bell rings out before Tatsuki could respond to his question. The trio look to the front of the store and Matsukawa internally groans again.

 

“Kai,” the woman exclaims with delight, rushing to hug the old man who’s just entered.

 

“Tatsuki, didn’t know you were here.”

 

“Of course. My weekly visit. I was just speaking with Mattsun about those two young men he and Makki met with a couple days ago.”

 

“And? Don’t keep an old man waiting.” Tatsuki laughs, both old people returning to the young couple.

 

“High school friends. All is well, thankfully. How have you been Kai.”

 

“Good, good. Nothing too exciting. Just stopping by for some flowers to take to my late wife.”

 

Tatsuki nods approvingly. “Me too. Me too. Let me introduce you two to my granddaughter. This is Louise. My son went overseas and got married so he decided to give her a foreign name. I think she would have made a wonderful Haruka.”

 

“Grandmother!” Louise hisses. Matsukawa smiles, sticking his hands in his pants pockets.

 

“Is there something in particular you’re looking for Kai-san?” Matsukawa asks. He’d rather get his nosy neighborhood elderly on their way so they can complete whatever tasks they’ve given themselves for the day.

 

“Yes. I was thinking something white with some color, or a light colored flower. A small flower if possible,” Kai responds with a chuckle. Matsukawa nods, face turning serious as he looks around his store and thinks of different flowers.

 

“A bouquet or just the one type of flower?”

 

“Just the one type, if you would.” Matsukawa nods, walking away from the trio, ignoring the conversation the elderly pair begin.

 

“Is there something you’re looking for?” Louise asks a couple minutes later.

 

“Not particularly,” Matsukawa responds, picking up a small bouquet of Magnolias. They’d been a pain to arrange, the fact that they were tree flowers the reason for it, but he was satisfied with the end product he’d created. He was still uncertain if he wanted to go through that trouble to add Magnolias to his store or not.

 

“Kai-san. Will these do?” Kai walks over and looks at the flowers, a smile starting to bloom.

 

“These are great! Thank you Mattsun. You always know which flowers to choose.” Matsukawa smiles back, walking to the register and ringing Kai up. The old man hands over the money, cradling the flowers with pride.

 

“Nobility, perseverance, and love of nature.” Matsukawa says when Kai turns to leave the store. He looks down at the flower and then nods.

 

“That sounds like my late wife alright. Thank you Mattsun. Until later Tatsuki. It was a pleasure meeting you Louise.” With his final words said, Kai leaves the store and heads toward the cemetery. Matsukawa turns to Tatsuki.

 

“Do you know what you’re looking for yet?”

 

“Something fit for a warrior,” Tatsuki says with a proud smile. Matsukawa cocks his head.

 

“I’ll be back in a second, please wait.”

 

With that, he rushes into the back room, pulling out the material he needs to make a bouquet and pulling flowers, that had yet to be moved to the front, out of a tub and got to work with quick and efficient moves. Satisfied with the arrangement, Matsukawa gently picks the bouquet up and returns to his store, not at all surprised when he see Tatsuki standing at the counter with money already out. Her eyes widen at the assembly and she gleams at Matsukawa.

 

“Magnificent as always. Thank you Mattsun.” He nods, taking the money and handing over the flowers, not bothering to give Tatsuki change back because she’ll just leave it on the counter anyways – always muttering about tipping him for his work.

 

“Nasturtium,” he says, pointing to the red flowers with yellow insides, “Symbolizes patriotism and conquest. Myrtle,” he continues, pointing to the pink flowers that he’s only added a few stems of, “Joy, love and remembrance.”

 

“Thank you, again. You have a good day and give Makki my regards,” Tatsuki says, holding the bouquet to her chest. Matsukawa nods and watches as she leaves with her granddaughter who turns to wave to Matsukawa before she leaves.

 

With a final fond look at the door, Matsukawa goes about putting the money in the register. The nosy elderly may always want to know or find out how his relationship with Hanamaki is going, or just make sure that the two men are okay, and though it drives him crazy, he’s also secretly pleased to have such caring people around.

 

The arms that wind around his waist and chin that rests on his shoulder make him startle, a soft chuckle playing in his ear.

 

“You abandoned me,” he accuses.

 

“Sorry Issei. I panicked,” Hanamaki apologizes, nuzzling into Matsukawa’s neck.

 

“You’re going to make it up to me.” A fond smile pulls at his lips when he feels Hanamaki laughing silently.

 

“Yes florist. How about some lunch?” Hanamaki questions.

 

“You just want sweets.”

 

“You know me so well,” Hanamaki says, rising to his toes to place a kiss on Matsukawa’s check.

 

“Alright,” Matsukawa says, backing away from the counter and following Hanamaki out of his store, making sure to flip his sign to ‘Closed’ and lock up.

 

“So how has your morning been?” Hanamaki asks as they begin to walk randomly to find someplace to eat.

 

“It’s been,” Matsukawa begin, content as he recaps his morning while holding Hanamaki’s hand firmly in his own.

 

 

** Thursday **

It doesn’t surprise Matsukawa when Hanamaki bursts through the front door of the flower shop, yelling out his name. He exits the back room and raises an eyebrow as Hanamaki rushes through the store, pausing multiple times to stop something from falling over in his rush to reach the counter.

 

“Hiro?”

 

“Mattsun! Look!”

 

Hanamaki shoves a flier in Matsukawa’s face. He has to grab the offending sheet of paper to pull it away and look at it. It seems the town is holding a summer festival later in the day.

 

“Can we go? With yukatas?”

 

Matsukawa looks the paper over again, then trails his eyes to Hanamaki who’s bouncing on his feet while leaning over the counter, eyes wide and hopeful. He looks the flier over again and sighs, a grin blooming on Hanamaki’s face.

 

“Thank you Mattsun!”

 

Hanamaki pulls himself further onto the counter and plants a kiss on Matsukawa who is quick to kiss back, placing the flier on the counter so he can lean farther over the counter to continue kissing Hanamaki. Hanamaki is the first to draw away from their quickening intense make-out session, a sigh on his lips as he falls back onto his feet.

 

“We have work Mattsun. Later?”

 

“Definitely.” Matsukawa quickly places one more kiss on Hanamaki’s lips before he heads to his tattoo shop to open up for the day. Anyway, a festival will be fun.

 

The rest of the day continued as just about any other day with customers coming and going and appointments of getting new ink. Hanamaki bounces between his tattoo shop and the flower shop, clear excitement oozing off him. Matsukawa tends to his shop and the flowers with much less energy, not as excited about the summer festival as Hanamaki.

 

Slowly the day passes, until finally it’s time for both stores to close. Once signs are turned over and doors locked, the couple are heading back up to their apartment to get ready for the evening. After quick showers, they change into their yukatas, helping each other tie their obi’s to save time.

 

Once they leave their apartment, they stroll through town to were the summer festival is being held, standing close enough for shoulders to brush so that they may hold hands without drawing too much attention. Matsukawa watches as Hanamaki’s face lights up when they finally reach the festival, lights lit and strung up for when the sun finally sets – currently kissing the horizon – and various stalls set up filled with games, food, or wares to be sold.

 

“Where to first?” Hanamaki asks, eyeing all of the different stalls with equal amounts of interest.

 

“Food,” Matsukawa says automatically earning himself a laugh from Hanamaki.

 

“Takoyaki?”

 

“Sure,” Matsukawa says with a shrug, unaware that Hanamaki has his eyes locked on one of the nearby stalls. He’s tugged to it by Hanamaki, both smiling to people they pass. Thankfully there is no line due to the early hour so they immediately receive a boat of takoyaki, stepping away from the stall and beginning to randomly walk around while eating the snack.

 

They continue to stroll around, continuously buying more treats – anything from the red bean paste and also custard filled taiyaki to the candied apple that the couple share and the chocolate covered strawberries and bananas that Hanamaki tricks Matsukawa into buying. Soon they’re full off the snacks, simply taking in the sights around them as they let their food digest, waiting before beginning on the games.

 

Somewhere along the way Matsukawa purchases a matching pair of fox masks, both men wearing them on the side of their heads so their faces remain revealed.

 

Finally, Hanamaki deems them sufficiently digested and pulls Matsukawa to the kingyo sukui, staring at the kids in front of the small pool with envy.

 

“Are you playing?” the stall keeper asks, looking up at both men.

 

“Yes,” Matsukawa replies in seconds, pulling out 200 yen and handing it over. The stall keeper takes it and hands over two scoopers. Hanamaki finds some space and crouches down, Matsukawa beside him, and quickly begins trying to catch a goldfish.

 

Much to Hanamaki’s frustration, after 7 scoops the paper on his poi is completely torn, a frown on his face as he glares at the goldfish swimming innocently below. Matsukawa’s shoulders shake as he silently chuckles.

 

“It’s fine,” he reassures, nudging Hanamaki who only turns to glare.

 

“It’s not. I was sure I would catch something his time.”

 

“Next time. I’m sure of it Hiro.” Hanamaki simply grumbles, thrusting his bowl to Matsukawa and looking pointedly at his still unused poi.

 

“Alright Mr. Kingyo Sukui, your turn. Have at it.” Matsukawa tries in vain to hide his grin, earning a huff from Hanamaki, but he dutifully turns his attention to the water below.

 

A calm washes over Matsukawa as he concentrates, face blank and eyes trained on the fish. He thanks his years of being a blocker in volleyball, though Hanamaki accuses him of cheating, that he’s able to catch 3 fish before his poi breaks completely. Hanamaki pouts as the stall keeper takes the fish and puts them in a bag with some water before handing it over to Matsukawa.

 

They both give their thanks before walking away, still side-by-side with hands and shoulders touching. When they’re away from the stall, Matsukawa holds the bag out.

 

“Here.”

 

“You always do this,” Hanamaki says, pout still in place but under the threat of breaking due to the smile trying to break out. Despite his words, he takes the bag out of Matsukawa’s grasp and holds it up to look at the fish, smile finally breaking out.  “Thank you Mattsun.”

 

“You’re welcome Hiro.”

 

It’s quick but Matsukawa places a quick kiss on Hanamaki’s temple, unconcerned with all the people around. Hanamaki’s smile grows, eyes meeting Matsukawa’s and hand latching onto his.

 

“Ring toss or cork gun next?” Hanamaki asks, letting the fish swing lightly by his side. Matsukawa pretends to ponder his answer, small grin on his lips, tugging on Hanamaki’s hand occasionally.

 

“Cork gun?”

 

“Ring toss it is.” Hanamaki laughs as he pulls Matsukawa toward one of the stalls hosting a ring toss game, smile widening when he hears Matsukawa’s laughs join his.

 

The night continues and Matsukawa and Hanamaki continue to bounce around, occasionally playing games or buying more snacks or some instances buying something from someone selling items that are interesting enough to catch the couples attention. Slowly time bleeds away until Hanamaki finally calls it quits a couple hours before midnight, reminding them both that they still have work in the morning despite the desire to sleep in.

 

They walk home, hands unabashedly clasped with Hanamaki’s free hand holding his bag of three goldfish and another bag that has all of the knick-knacks purchased earlier in the night while Matsukawa’s free hand grips an oversized fish that Hanamaki had won for him at the cork gun game.

 

When they finally reach their shops, they ascend the steps to their apartment with quick movements and tumble through the door when it gets unlocked. Hanamaki pulls at his obi while walking to the dining table where he drops the bag of knick-knacks and wanders into the kitchen to fill one of their empty vases with water before transferring his fish into it.

 

Done taking care of the fish, he walks to the shared bedroom and allows Matsukawa to pull his yukata off, forgoing any clothes besides his briefs and falling into bed instead. Matsukawa’s quiet chuckles, as he puts the yukata and obi away, rocks Hanamaki to sleep, passing out before his boyfriend even has a chance to get in bed. As he rearranges Hanamaki into the center of the bed, Matsukawa finds that he doesn’t mind it when Hanamaki passes out like that, it just gives him a chance to stare at his cute boyfriend while he sleeps – which he happily does until he too is falling unconscious minutes later.

** Friday **

Low rumbling cuts through the sky, grey clouds obstructing the sun and eliminating any thoughts of a bright sunny day. Still, the summer heat is already beginning to seep in.

 

Staring out the balcony’s doors, Hanamaki looks at the threatening sky. “Do you suppose it’ll rain?”

 

“No reports of it” Matsukawa answers from the kitchen, plating food and taking them to the table. “Breakfast.” Hanamaki stares out the window a few seconds longer before the smell of the tsukemono reaches him.

 

Both seated, they mutter “itadakimasu” and dig in, conversation nonexistent. Matsukawa assaults his miso soup and rice first. Hanamaki on the other hand quickly finishes off his tsukemono and tamagoyaki. Their gusto continues until their plates are wiped clean, dishes stacked to be taken to the kitchen.

 

“Thank you Mattsun. That was good” Hanamaki says appreciatively, standing and gathering the stacked dishes and heading to the kitchen to wash them.

 

“When isn’t it my creampuff?” Matsukawa asks with a quiet chuckle, standing as well but heading further into the apartment to finish getting ready for the day.

 

“When you don’t cook” Hanamaki shouts, knowing he’ll be heard.

 

“Some of us just have a green thumb all around” Matsukawa shouts back. Hanamaki scowls, grumbling under his breath before his eyes flick up to the potted plants by the balcony’s door. “Please don’t kill my plants Hiro” Matsukawa says, walking into the kitchen and placing a quick peck on Hanamaki’s temple.

 

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not my fault they can’t handle my strength.” He earns a huff of laughter and another temple kiss from Matsukawa.

 

“Ready to go?”

 

“Yes Mr. Florist” Hanamaki says with a grin, placing the last bowl on the drying rack and turning the water off. “Let’s get to it!”

 

“It’ll be a slow day” Matsukawa says amused. Hanamaki waves his hand around in disagreement, sitting to tie his shoes.

 

“No it won’t. My Makki senses are tingling.”

 

“Makki senses?” Matsukawa whispers, tying his shoe’s as well. His question goes unnoticed by Hanamaki who is already pushing the door open and waiting for Matsukawa.

 

With a shrug, Matsukawa stands and exits the apartment, letting Hanamaki lock up as he heads down the stairs, unlocks his flower shop, and heads inside. Hanamaki comes in soon after, waving to Matsukawa as he makes his way through the store to the left doorway, going through the door into his own shop. They spend the next thirty minutes preparing to open before turning on their ‘Open’ signs and waiting for customers.

 

Just like Matsukawa predicted business is slow, people preferring to stay inside their cool homes instead of venturing into the humid outdoors where there is a possibility of rain. By lunchtime Hanamaki has gotten bored and lonely, entering the flower shop.

 

“Hiro.”

 

“Mattsun” Hanamaki whines, slumping over the counter. “I’m bored.”

 

“It’s a slow day” Matsukawa reminds, eyes locked on his planner to review the flower orders he needs to get ready for delivery the following week. Hanamaki hums, arms crossed on the counter cradeling his head while he keeps his gazed on Matsukawa as he works. Getting bored, the tattoo artist’s eyes wander, traveling down the smooth expanse of skin to settle on the florist’s collar bone, thankfully unobstructed by the v-neck he was wearing. Without thinking about it, one of Hanamaki’s arms untangles from under his cheek and reaches out, finger lightly tracing the ink curling around Matsukawa’s collarbone before disappearing under the shirt.

 

“Can I help you Hiro?” Matsukawa asks, use to the other man admiring his tattoos but humoring him with the question as he continues to look over his planner.

 

“Have you thought about another tattoo Mattsun? On your back. I think I know the perfect design.” Hanamaki springs up, leaning across the counter to be closer to Matsukawa as he talks. Matsukawa simply looks up at Hanamaki with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I’m not going to find some frog or something on my back am I?”

 

Hanamaki grins. “You’re fully taken. Come on Mattsun.” Matsukawa sighs but nods, conceding to his boyfriend’s desires.

 

“But not today.”

 

“Got it! I’ll go keep watch” Hanamaki says with a grin, spinning on his heel and heading back to his shop to most likely begin designing the tattoo he wants to but on Matsukawa. Said man shakes his head fondly with a smile.

 

“I feed him too much sugar” he mumbles, looking up and smiling at the customer that comes in, bell ringing to announce their presence.

 

Well into the afternoon when it seems that no more customers will be visiting, both tattoo parlor and flower shop close for the evening, signs turned to announce that they were closed. The couple make their way upstairs, eyes lingering on the still dark skies before they enter their apartment.

 

Heading right for the kitchen, Matsukawa begins to prepare dinner. Alongside him, Hanamaki puts away the dishes from breakfast before he leaves for the bathroom to take a bath and change into his sleepwear.

 

By the time Hanamaki is down with his bath, Matsukawa has finished dinner and is doling out the food and Hanamaki is quick to set the table up for them. They mutter a quick “itadakimasu” and begin eating.

 

Once their plates are clean, Matsukawa goes off to take his bath while Hanamaki enters the kitchen and begins washing the dishes and cleaning off the counter and table. Waiting for Matsukawa, Hanamaki takes out one of his sketchbooks and sits at the table, doodling and oblivious to the world around him.

 

When Matsukawa gets out of the bathroom, he smiles fondly at Hanamaki who’s hunched over his sketchbook and drawing like crazy. He towels his hair dry, thinking about what to do for the rest of the evening and decides on watching some television, walking to the couch and falling onto, remote in hand as he turns it on. The noise causes Hanamaki to raise his head, watching Matsukawa for a couple of minutes before returning his attention to his sketching.

 

The hours tick by, each man only getting up for something to drink when Matsukawa feels his stomach rumble. He ignores it in lieu of watching the cooking show that’s on, listening avidly to the cooking instructions so he can replicate the dish at a later date. The second rumble goes unnoticed by the florist and it isn’t until he’s feeling his stomach growl for the third time that Matsukawa sighs and gets up, hunger gnawing at his gut.

 

“Hiro, I’m going out” Matsukawa says, looking over Hanamaki shoulder as he sketches some things out, tongue poking out as he concentrates.

 

“Where to?” Hanamaki asks without looking up.

 

“Family Mart down the street. Getting some snacks.” Hanamaki stops drawing, tapping the pencil’s eraser against his lip, brow scrunched in thought.

 

“Alright. Let’s go” Hanamaki decides, jumping out of his chair, following after Matsukawa who heads to the door. They both slip on shoes, Matsukawa giving Hanamaki’s obnoxious ladybug slippers a dubious look, but ignoring them otherwise in favor of getting some late night snack foods.

 

The walk to the konbini is a short one and the couple find themselves entering the store minutes later. A few other patrons are in the store too and Matsukawa quickly notices how some of their attention wanders down to Hanamaki’s footwear.

 

“I’m going to look around. Find what you want” Matsukawa says, walking away from Hanamaki who looks after Matsukawa with a confused expression. He looks around and notices a young woman quickly look away, smile in place. He takes a minute to look himself over (she was obviously amused by him) and realization dawned on him when his eyes landed on the ladybug slippers that look more fitting for a child to be wearing. A grin spread across his face, chasing after Matsukawa.

 

“Mattsun! Wait up. I don’t know what I want.”

 

“Go away sir, I don’t know you” Matsukawa says with a straight face, looking away from Hanamaki who only grins wider.

 

“Come on Mattsun. Feed me” he says with a cackle, bumping into Matsukawa’s back.

 

“Hiro get away from me with those ridiculous slippers.” Matsukawa turns to survey the shelves while pushing Hanamaki’s head away.

 

“What. You got them for me remember? Are you staring to get old Mattsun? Too much pollen polluting your brain?”

 

“Pollen doesn’t pollute your brain idiot. Onigiri?”

 

“Okaka? You spend too much time in that shop. You should visit me more” Hanamaki says playfully, wrapping his arms around Matsukawa’s middle and peering around him to see Matsukawa grab okaka and salmon filled onigiri and drop them in the basket he’s holding.

 

“I do have a business to run Hiro. I can’t just leave it” Matsukawa chides, adding two more when Hanamaki mutters ‘two more.’

 

“Pssh. I do.”

 

“I know” Matsukawa says with a low chuckle, walking into another isle to get some sweets and a couple sports drinks. Hanamaki lets the conversation drop with a huff and eye roll but continues to cling to Matsukawa as they walk around the store.

 

Matsukawa notices a few looks of disapproval and disgust from some of the other customers but chooses to ignore it, matching their looks with glares. At the register the teenager gives both men a once over before she begins to ring up their purchases. “Good evening. I love your shoes Makki.”

 

Hanamaki snickers at Matsukawa’s frown. “Need to spice things up every now and then.”

 

“Thank you Chiyo. Have a nice evening” Matsukawa says as he grabs their bags and moves to leave. Chiyo giggles as she waves good-bye to the two men, Hanamaki waving back while still clinging to his boyfriend with one arm.

 

Outside Hanamaki changes positions and moves from Matsukawa’s back and to his side, lacing their fingers together. “You should ignore them Mattsun” Hanamaki says knowingly.

 

“I could care less what they think” Matsukawa says, leaning the short distance to kiss Hanamaki’s cheek.

 

“You mean you’re most definitely not okay with their looks and you’re offended–”

 

“Wounded even” Matsukawa cuts off with a smirk.

 

“That they’d even look at us like that,” Hanamaki continues as if he hadn’t been interrupted in the first place, “but also upset that you–”

 

“Alright Hiro” Matsukawa interrupts again, this time covering Hanamaki’s lips with his own to end the tirade of words. “Home?”

 

“And Onigiri” Hanamaki confirms with a nod, swinging their arms lightly as they make their way home.

 

 

** Saturday **

It’s one of the rare mornings where Matsukawa manages to wake first, stretching out carefully so as to not wake Hanamaki who continues to doze calmly. Sufficiently stretched and relaxed, Matsukawa props his head up on a hand to silently watch his boyfriend, memorizing the slightly parted lips and the calm rise and fall of shoulders, hair sleep tousled despite the short length.

 

Seconds turn into minutes and soon Hanamaki’s alarm is going off, a shrill ring in the room. Matsukawa leans over Hanamaki to turn the device off, letting himself fall on top of Hanamaki once he’s succeeded in his mission. Hanamaki groans, wiggling under the larger man.

 

“Mattsun.”

 

“Good morning Hiro.”

 

“You’re heavy,” Hanamaki accuses, turning his head only to be face-to-arm with Matsukawa’s tattooed arm. With squinted eyes, Hanamaki looks the ink over, raising his fingers to trace the designs of the pink flower there before moving to run his fingers over the pine needles tattooed into a bundle.

 

On top of him, Matsukawa allowed his eyes to slip shut, lulled into a light sleep, calmed by Hanamaki’s feather-light touch on his arm, that is until Hanamaki saw the time.

 

“Mattsun!” Hanamaki yells, pushing up while moving sideways, successfully managing to topple Matsukawa onto the bed.

 

“What?” Matsukawa grumbles, turning his head into Hanamaki’s now vacated pillow.

 

“Don’t what me. Have you seen the time? I’ve got to open.”

 

“Stay,” Matsukawa demands, looping his arm around Hanamaki’s waist and pulling back, causing Hanamaki to half sprawl over the bed and half sprawl over Matsukawa.

 

“I can’t. Unlike you, I’m open on Saturdays. Later.”

 

“Now.”

 

Hanamaki starts to laugh, leaning over to kiss Matsukawa on the lips and once more on the nose. “Now who’s the carefree one. I’ll see you later?”

 

“Fine,” Matsukawa says, a pout that he’d deny on his lips. Hanamaki laughs some more, giving Matsukawa one more kiss before he pulls off the arm around his waist and stands to get ready for the day.

 

As Hanamaki patters around, changing and brushing teeth and eating a quick breakfast made of toast, Matsukawa falls asleep again, one arm hanging off the bed with sheets tangled around his legs and face smooshed into Hanamaki’s pillow, breaths light and even. Before he leaves, Hanamaki makes sure to place a last kiss on Matsukawa’s forehead before scurrying out of the apartment and down to his shop to open up.

 

Hours later, Matsukawa wakes one more time, groaning as he rolls onto his back, arms raised over his head as he stretches. He turns his head to look at the alarm and internally curses when he sees it’s almost midday. Going to sleep later would be difficult, near impossible.

 

Taking his time, Matsukawa untangles his legs and gets out of bed, leisurely using the bathroom and preparing lunch. Once sandwiches have been made, he pulls on a clean pair of jeans and a shirt, wrapping sandwiches and some fruit in a bag before slipping his shoes on. The door gets locked and then Matsukawa makes his way down the steps, rounding the corner and bypassing his flower shop to continue on to Hanamaki’s tattoo shop, opening the door and stepping in.

 

A quick sweep of the store reveals that Hanamaki has no customers the moment which causes Matsukawa to smile. He walks over to Hanamaki who sits at his drawing table off to the side, hunched over it as he sketches out a new design.

 

“Hey,” Matsukawa greets, placing the bag with lunch on the table and looping and arm around Hanamaki’s waist. It comes as no surprise to him when he gets no response, instead waiting patiently and looking over Hanamaki’s shoulder to watch as he draws.

 

“Mattsun?” Hanamaki says a few minutes later, eyes catching the corner of the bag and jumping up when he notices the arm around his waist. “I didn’t realize you came in. Good morning.”

 

“I know,” Matsukawa teases lightly, grin in place as he kisses Hanamaki quickly. “I brought lunch. Do you have time?”

 

“Of course I have time,” Hanamaki says, moving back to get off the chair he’s sitting in.

 

Matsukawa dutifully removes his arm, grabbing the bag and heads over to the small sitting area Hanamaki has set up, tattoo artist following behind florist. They settle on couches and pull out the food, quickly digging in, Hanamaki tearing into his sandwich with big bites.

 

“How has your morning been?” Matsukawa asks, eating his own sandwich at a much slower pace.

 

“Had to call Shun in. There were a couple walk-ins and then two appointments. It’s been busy today,” Hanamaki reports between bites.

 

“Shun left?”

 

“Yeah. I let him go about half an hour ago when I was with the second appointment. He said something about his sister’s birthday I think,” Hanamaki said, refocusing on his sandwich and the cut up apple Matsukawa brought along.

 

They continue to eat until all the food is gone. Matsukawa gets up and throws the trash away, wandering into the backroom in his flower shop to take two waters out of the fridge, letting the curtain separating the two shops flutter back into place. He returns to his seat on the couch, handing a water over to Hanamaki who happily takes it and begins to chug the beverage.

 

When he’s satisfied, Hanamaki pulls the bottle away and leans against Matsukawa, looking up at him while using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. “And how was your day Mattsun.” Matsukawa hums, leaning back against Hanamaki with his eyes closed.

 

“I woke up just before making lunch and coming down.” Hanamaki snickers, not bothering to hide it.

 

“And I’m the sleepyhead.”

 

“Laugh it up,” Matsukawa playfully growls.

 

He lets his capped water fall onto the couch to grab at Hanamaki’s sides instead, fingers precise as he begins to tickle the other man. Hanamaki startles with a yelp, hand jerking causing water to slosh out of his bottle. He yells and curses, fighting off giggles from the assault on his sides. He tries to move away but it’s in vain, Matsukawa keeping him close. Accidently, Hanamaki drops the bottle and watches it as it falls onto the floor and spills, still giggling and unable to get away.

 

“Excuse me?” a voice asks uncertainly. Both men look up, Matsukawa stilling his hands and Hanamaki gasping for air.

 

“Yeah?” Matsukawa asks for Hanamaki.

 

“I was looking to get a tattoo,” the man says cautiously.

 

“Right. I can help you with that,” Hanamaki says, getting up when Matsukawa nudges at his back and looking down at the small puddle.

 

“I’ll get it,” Matsukawa assures. Hanamaki nods and walks over to his counter, beckoning the customer over. The customer complies and the two quickly begin to talk about the design and placement and size.

 

Matsukawa stands and retreats to the backroom in his store to get a rag before returning to the tattoo shop to soak up the water. Back in the backroom, Matsukawa rings the rag out and places it out to dry. Before heading back to the tattoo shop to relax, he grabs his inventory sheet and the catalogs for the places where he buys his flowers from.

 

In the parlor, Hanamaki and his customer have moved to one of the parlor chairs. Hanamaki looks up at Matsukawa as he steps back into the room, Matsukawa giving him a small wave to indicate that everything is okay and to focus on his work. Hanamaki nods back.

 

The voices of the customer and Hanamaki fill the shop, an easy conversation between the two while Matsukawa rests in the seating area and goes over his inventory and making a note of what he needs to buy. Two hours pass before the tattoo is finished, Hanamaki reciting aftercare instructions while also handing over a paper with all of the information. The customer pays him before he’s walking out the shop, smile on his face and thanks falling from his lips.

 

Hanamaki considers sitting with Matsukawa again but decides to return to his drawing table to work on the design he’s playing with. Maybe Shun and Ritsu will like it.

 

Peace is easy to find as both men keep working on their own things, Hanamaki occasionally settling next to Matsukawa for a few minutes before doing something in his shop and Matsukawa occasionally standing to walk around and stretch his legs, sometimes returning to his own store to grab or fix something. A couple more customers come in looking for tattoos, another one making an appointment, and three phone calls all concerning their own appointments.

 

Finally, it’s time for Hanamaki to close. Lights are turned off, the sign flipped, and door locked – the couple making their way upstairs. After removing their shoes, they go into the kitchen where Hanamaki helps Matsukawa make dinner, conversation light, and when they’re done preparing it, the couple sit down at the table and reap the fruits of their labor.

 

When dinner has been eaten and the dishes washed and dried, Matsukawa and Hanamaki head to the bathroom, making sure to wash thoroughly before relaxing in the bath together, simply enjoying each other’s presence.

 

Once Matsukawa has deemed them clean and relaxed enough, he ushers Hanamaki out, both take turns to dry the other – careful to dry hair completely – before pulling on briefs and pants and then entering their bedroom to tumble into bed. Hanamaki rests comfortably in Matsukawa’s arms, head propped up on his boyfriend’s arm. Matsukawa begins to hum a tune under his breath, pliant as Hanamaki runs his fingers over Matsukawa’s tattoos, hands rubbing soothing circles into his back.

 

Without realizing it, both men fall asleep, oblivious to the world outside their windows, resting until the sun rises in the morning and their week begins anew; seven days filled with each other and their own little shops.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://5917.tumblr.com) |  [commissions](http://5917.tumblr.com/commissions) |  [original story](http://5917.tumblr.com/tagged/%3Bg3)  
> 


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